


Tattered Silhouette

by Mythicalemily



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Fluff and Angst, High School Rhett and Link, M/M, Sad and Cheesy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8941408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythicalemily/pseuds/Mythicalemily
Summary: Link tries to be flawless, on-stage and off-stage.Beaten down by sickled feet, spoken secrets, faltering fouettes, and lost friendships, he realizes: not even silhouettes can be perfect.What is he willing to give up for ballet?





	1. Nouveau Début

_Tombé, pas de bourrée, glissade, saut de chat._

Through the whirlwind of the combination, he caught a glimpse of the people sitting in the chairs located at the front of the studio: his ballet instructor, other dancers and their parents, his own parents, Rhett, and the unfamiliar man with a clipboard. He was suddenly aware of every little thing. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his labored breathing. He could feel every speck of dirt his black ballet shoe danced on. He could see the all the girls’ awe as he lept five feet into the air. He could hear the scribbling of a pencil on a clipboard.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Don’t be nervous._

As the smooth, melodious sounds of Tchaikovsky poured out from the large speaker in the corner of the room, Link became increasingly nervous. He was clammy, despite the cool, dry air that circulated the large room; he wasn’t sure if it was from sweat or from nerves. Consequently, stressing out just made him more apprehensive. The turn sequence from hell was coming up. It sounded simple: chaine, five fouette turns from fourth position, into a triple pirouette, but he definitely wasn’t a turner. As his toes brushed the ground with every step, he scrunched up his nose; he felt like he was making tons of mistakes. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he felt more unsure but just prayed that he was impressing the small audience. Shoving his anxiety into the deeper parts of his brain, he took a deep breath and prepared for the first turn.

_Don’t fall. Point your toes. Tighten your core. Lift your leg higher. Focus on your arms. Square your hips. Spot. Don’t fall._

He landed in a perfect lunge, a strand of sweaty hair falling over his sky-blue eyes as the music drew to a dramatic close. One arm was held high above his head and the other was on his waist, which was now expanding and contracting due to his rapid and uneven breathing. His head spun with dizziness, but he held his position, blinking to keep himself from falling over and ruining his professionalism. The room was silent for a moment too long, then burst out in applause. The twenty-five people in the room clapped loud enough to fill the New York Ballet Theater.

A huge grin bloomed on Link’s face, standing in front of all his friends and family. He placed his feet back into first position, in a little ‘V’ shape. The ‘V’ was almost a complete 180 degrees, which many of the other girls strongly envied. He then placed one arm on his back and bowed, the room exploding into applause once again. Link looked up from his feet, and the poised, unfamiliar man with a clipboard cleared his throat and the room quickly grew silent. “Charles Lincoln Neal,” he said briskly, with a slight French accent. 

“Yes, sir.”

“I assume you’ve gotten your letter.”

“Yes,” he whispered.

He capped his pen and wedged his clipboard between his side and his arm. “You deserve it.” Then, he turned to the small crowd sitting at the front of the room, eagerly listening. “This was his final audition. I would like to formally, in person, announce to everyone that Mr. Neal has been asked to join the School of American Ballet in New York next semester.”

Gasps escaped from his classmates that immediately turned into excited but jealous chatter. One classmate screamed and quickly covered her mouth with both hands, giggling. The rest of the girls joined in, their enthusiasm not dying down at all. A petite blonde girl whispered through her teeth, “Why didn’t you tell us!”

“Shush!” exclaimed their dance instructor, giving the blonde a harsh stare. They calmed down in seconds, but all the girls shot Link admiring glances and big thumbs up. 

Link returned the smile, feeling incredibly thankful for all his friends. His eyes shifted towards his parents, who were beaming as well. His mother was dabbing under her eyes with a tissue, sobbing with happiness and pride, trying hard to not smudge her mascara. Next to his mom, sat Rhett. Rhett, his best friend since 1st grade, since his first pair of ballet shoes. He was smiling and clapping along with everyone else, but he wouldn’t look Link in the eye. Link smiled meekly, looked down at the ground, then to the admissions officer again. “Thank you so much,” Link gushed. “It truly is an honor.” 

The man dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Congratulations. However, this is not the end, not the final step in reaching your goal. I know you have worked hard for this, but be prepared to work harder than you have ever worked in your entire life. You will be dancing 6+ hours a day, competing with the strongest dancers in the nation for a few spots in the company. Are you ready?”

Link felt weak. “Y-yes, of course.”

The French man chuckled. “Apologies for scaring you, I did not intend for it. Thousands applied, we chose few. We chose you because we believe you will be able to do it.”

Chills ran down Link’s spine. His throat closed up a bit and he managed to mumble, “Thank you, sir.”

“You can call me Mr. Laurent. I would love to stay and celebrate, but I have to catch a flight back to New York in a few hours. I will see you there, correct?” 

Link nodded eagerly as Mr. Laurent stepped out of the dance studio. Before he could even register what had happened, the girls swarmed him, squeezing him in a huge, screaming, group hug. 

“Link, Link, Link, oh my gosh! Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Ahh, I can’t believe it! Link’s going to SAB!”

“You’re going to be living hundreds of miles from home, living with amazing ballerinas. I’m so jealous ughh!”

“Pleaseee get me Nikolaj Hübbe’s autograph, I would die!”

“You’re going to come back and visit, right? I wanna hear every single detail!”

James, the ballet instructor, shooed the jittery students away. “Girls, give Link some space. It’s hard enough for him to process, it’ll be even harder with y’all attacking him.” He walked up to Link, with pride shining in his dark brown irises. Link was stunned; James was not the soft, emotional type. “I’m so proud of you, Linkster. Call me when you’re a principal dancer, okay?” He cleared his throat and declared to everyone, “What a great end to a summer intensive, now enjoy the rest of your summer vacations. Don’t forget to stretch every day though! I wanna get all of you into SAB as well!” The girls curtseyed and clapped, a sign of respect towards the teacher and each other’s hard work.

“James, I think I’ll stay here for a bit. I need to take a good look at the studio before New York, yanno?”

“Yeah sure, I need to go home though. Lock up before you leave. I can trust you, right?” Link agreed, gave hugs to all his classmates, and accepted praise from other parents. Trying to hold back tears, he said goodbye to the peers he has seen every day since he was seven. Every face he saw, he thought to himself that he might never see him or her again; it absolutely terrified him. He wanted to remember every single detail, but the idea of a fresh new start kept him on his toes, leaning towards his future. 

His own parents walked over, his mother still teary-eyed. He told his parents that he wanted to stay a bit longer. His dad frowned, telling him it was almost 10 PM already, he should go home to rest. “Dad. I’m 17, I can drive home myself.” His mom elbowed his dad in the ribs, silently giving him the message: it was the last time Link was going to see this studio. After showering Link with more praise and kisses, his parents were gone, along with everyone else, and he was alone in the studio.

 

It definitely wasn’t the first time he was alone. He stayed late in the dance studio very often, working on his turn sequences while all the other teens were out socializing. He didn’t mind though. This studio was his home, it was better than any party he could attend. Missing out on all the bad teenage choices didn’t bother Link, he was perfectly fine without the consequences of drinking, smoking weed, and having sex at such a young age. He preferred being alone in the studio, he could really work on his technique and look in the mirror without judgment. However, this time was different. The empty studio felt eerie, like a deserted ghost town. He walked over to the light switch, turning it off. Then, he walked to the curtains and forcefully drew them open, letting the moonlight stream in. In the 10 years he had danced at the studio, he had never once seen it like this. The sound of the air conditioner died, leaving complete silence behind. The moonlight shone on him, leaving a strong, clear, black silhouette standing right behind him. 

He had thought he was alone, but Rhett peeked his head inside the door. “Ayyy look, it's the ballet prodigy of small-town North Carolina!” he exclaimed happily, but Link saw straight through him. 

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

Rhett looked surprised. “What do you mean? I’m completely fine.” Link raised his eyebrows, questioning. Rhett looked hard at Link, his lips drawn in a tight line. “Best junior ballet school in the world… wow, Link. And New York, oh my God. All those city lights and broadway stars. I… I’ll miss you, Brother.”

The sides of Link’s eyes crinkled with a smile. He managed to sputter out a “I’ll miss you too,” but he couldn’t say much else. Rhett’s words about New York suddenly made it real; he was just starting to believe it himself. Warmth spread from his heart to the rest of his exhausted body. However, there wasn’t much else to say. What could he say? Ten years of friendship won’t, and couldn’t, be broken by distance.

Right? 

Yes, Link thought. He wouldn’t allow it to be.

Rhett wrung his clammy hands together and proceeded to wipe them on his basketball shorts. Link could tell that he was really struggling with something so he urged him to just spit it out, say what was on his mind. Rhett took a deep breath, “I know this is inconsiderate and I should be more sympathetic, but are you seriously going to leave me here?”

Link wasn’t expecting huge congratulations and hugs, but he also definitely wasn’t expecting this. Taken aback, he replied, “Wha-what? Are you serious?”

Rhett’s voice cracked, but his sentences were well put together, like he had been practicing this conversation in front of a mirror. “We planned it all, Link. We made a blood oath. What about college? What about doing something great together? What about us?”

“Uhh… what the hell, Rhett? I thought you would be more supportive, I’ve been working towards this all my life and you know that. You know what? You can’t have everything, okay?” Link spat, fuming. “I’m tired of playing catch up. I’m tired of listening to all your rants about all the girls you’re getting, then trying to match me up with someone. I’m tired of watching you get cheered for being an amazing basketball player. I’m tired, Rhett. Tired of being nothing but your friend. I’m very proud of you Rhett, but ballet is the fucking only thing I have in my life.”

Rhett stared, jaw slack from shock. He blinked and said, “There’s no point.”

“In what?”

“Everything. You aren’t just my friend; you’re my other half, Link.”

Link’s upper lip began to curl with confusion and mild disgust, but before he even blinked, Rhett dove forward, held the sides of his sweaty head, and pressed their lips together. Link relaxed into the kiss, moving his hands towards Rhett’s waist. Their bodies were separated by a few inches of space, but it was the closest Link had ever felt to Rhett in his entire life. His mind short circuited as his entire friendship flashed before his eyes. Everything… everything... what does this mean? The kiss barely lasted five seconds, but Link’s world melted away from him. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit,_ Link thought for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day. This wasn’t okay, this wasn’t right. He stepped backwards, his eyes wide open and his mouth open, the feeling of Rhett pressed against his lips still lingering. As Link wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, they both stared at each other, silent. Rhett displayed no emotion at first, but then he furrowed his brow and his grayish-green eyes darkened. After ten years of constant chatter, in a moment when they needed to talk so badly, no words were exchanged at all. 

Rhett took a step back as well, taking one last look at Link before bolting out the door.


	2. Pas de Bourrée

Link was left there. Rhett and he had their fair share of arguments, but this was something else. Link sank to the cold marley floor, running his fingers along countless gray streaks from the pointe shoes. He laid down and put his back on the floor he had always known, in the city he had always known, with the people he knew.

With the people he thought he had known.

As he stared up at the unlit light bulbs, he wondered. He always wondered, but never hoped; hope brings disappointment, while wondering was just a disappearing dream. Rhett often teased him for it. Link would get a strange look on his face and Rhett would try his hardest to imitate it, making it more and more exaggerated until Link would give him a friendly punch on his shoulder. Shoulder. Rhett would wear tank tops for basketball practice, revealing his lightly freckled back and shoulders. Link imagined himself running his fingers across his friend’s smooth back, stopping to nip at the base of his neck…

Link audibly gasped. He shook himself from his daydreams and clutched his head in between his hands. His fingers tightened around his hair and he pulled, which was strangely relaxing. However, his mind did not stop racing. _Why…?_ he thought. _Why now?_ He didn’t have feelings for his best friend, no way. No feelings for the gentle giant. No feelings for those greenish gray eyes. No feelings for the cute little mole above his warm, welcoming smile. Link caught himself smiling and immediately told himself to stop. He cursed his teenage brain, one that didn’t understand itself. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and assured himself everything will be okay, he’ll figure all of this out.

A little ‘bloop’ sounded from the corner of the room. His eyes widened as he frantically got up and dug through his ballet bag for his phone. It kept vibrating as he threw leggings and ballet shoes behind him, making a mess. As he grabbed his phone, hurriedly turning flipping the top open, he saw a new message.

Dad: _Are you on your way home?_

Link screamed silently with frustration and rose to his feet, bumping his head on the ballet barre above him. _Fuck being calm._ He hurled his phone across the room, and it hit the adjacent wall and landed on the ground with an unpleasant clatter. Usually, he would run over to check if the phone was broken or not, but today, he couldn’t care less. He clenched his fists and stormed over to the speakers, jamming a CD into the slot and smashing play.

The smooth sounds of Tchaikovsky continued from the end of his audition piece and quelled the anger practically spewing from his ears. He resumed his position at the corner of the room and looked over his shoulder, at the moonlight streaming through the window. A smug smile bloomed on his face.

_I don’t have to figure any of this out. I’m out of here._

He didn’t even have to think about the steps, his body knew what to do. His feet pranced lightly against the matte black floor, he balancéd and assembléd and jetéd. This time, the turn sequence didn’t seem as intimidating. There was nobody watching, not even the harsh lights or security cameras, which were usually beaming down on him. He looked at the empty chairs that just an hour ago, sat an audience of people who looked at him with admiration and pride, maybe even a bit of jealousy. He scoffed, slightly relieved he would never have to see them very often from now on. He would focus on himself, his own self-improvement, his career: one as a ballerino.

_Chaine, five fouette turns from fourth position, into a triple pirouette. I got this._

The turns started off amazingly; Link wished he had done this well during his actual audition. He spun like a top, spotting perfectly at the mirror, his reflection just a blur. Heart swelling with pride, his arms snapped around repeatedly, giving him more momentum and torque. However, during the final pirouette, right before his finishing lunge, he lingered at his reflection in the mirror for a second too long and stumbled out of his turn. He stomped his piqued right foot down onto the floor, preventing himself from falling on his bottom. His feet parallel and wide apart in second position, he directly faced the mirror.

The person who stared back at him looked distraught, unfamiliar.

 _I’m out of here. I’m out of here. I’m leaving everyone here, but why would they even care? Why does Rhett care? We aren’t the same person,_ Link panicked.

 _I’m not gay. I’m not. I’m not. I’m not._ He repeated to himself, whispering under his breath.

It’s as if his sense of reality slipped away into a different world.

Perhaps, it was the same world, just a different time. Link blinked and opened his eyes, seeing the vast expanse of a playground outside. He rubbed his eyes then noticed his stubby fingers and hairless arms. _Oh._ The same North Carolina wind blew through his hair and rustled his dark, long eyelashes. He saw a group of boys at the swings, laughing and play-wrestling each other as girls watched, giggling. To his left, he saw another group of boys playing basketball at a lower-than-normal basketball hoop. His eyes were drawn to the tallest one of them.

_Rhett._

Link smiled and relaxed at the familiar face, even though he looked nine years younger. Rhett was being patted on the back and cheered on by at least ten other guys as a result of his scoring a point. Link stepped out of the shade and squinted as the burning rays of the Southern sun pierced through his skin. While walking over to the elementary school basketball court with his short, thin legs, the other group of boys started walking towards him.

They formed a little triangle, with a bigger boy in the center. He wasn’t as tall as Rhett, and even though he was in third grade, Link could remember how scared he felt. The name came easily to him. _John Carson_.

“Hey, twinkletoes! Finally come outside after your little ballet class? More like finally come out, am I right?” he exclaimed to Link, laughing with his friends. Link was fully aware of what was happening; he was 17 now, trapped in this little daydream and trapped in his 8-year-old body. He knew what was to come, but he couldn’t form the words to retaliate; he was completely frozen. He managed to mutter out, “Oh… I’m just going to p-play some… basketball,” stealing a quick glance at Rhett, who was staring right back.

Link shifted his gaze back to John Carson, who now also had his head turned towards Rhett. “Ohhh, your boyfriend going to come help you now, isn’t he?” Rhett walked up, tapped John on the shoulder, and told him to screw off, and Link felt a little flutter in his heart. John was unfazed and continued, “Look, Rhetty is here to help, so romantic! Y’all might as well just kiss now, we won’t be surprised.” Link felt his throat tighten up. “We support you,” John said sarcastically, with an evil grin on his face.

Suddenly, John Carson was on the ground, clutching the side of his face and crying. Rhett had his right hand curled up into a fist and Link could practically see the fury in his eyes. Teachers were rushing towards the circle of little boys from all sides, screaming and scolding Rhett. It was like Rhett didn’t even hear them, he just walked over to Link and asked, “Hey buddy, are you okay?”

Link stayed silent and continued to watch John as teachers helped him get back up. The bully rubbed the side of his jaw and assured the teachers that he was fine, just some friendly play gone a little too far. The teachers gave Rhett a warning as they walked away, saying they would have to bring his parents in later.

John Carson walked away as well and added, “Only gay boys do ballet.” He then muttered a word that even would make 17-year-old Link, a foul mouthed teenage boy, cringe with utter shock.

“Shut up!” Link screamed, throwing Rhett off guard. Link was usually very quiet and rarely stood up for himself. Next, Link sobbed as he shoved Rhett, not hard enough to push him to the ground, but enough to make him stumble backwards. “Look what you've done!” He ran back into the safety of the classroom, and later that night, into the safety of the ballet studio. They never brought this up again.

Link snapped out of his flashback. Back in the cold room, he found himself on the ground, the same ground as right after the incident. He curled up into a ball on that ground and sobbed.

He had thought third grade was a thing of the past. He had thought he changed. But here he was again, the one crying on the floor of the ballet studio, even though he was the one who had hurt someone else.

_Rhett. With him, I’m scared, but without him, I don't even know who I am._

Link made another mistake: he forced himself to forget. Again.

Fake it until you make it, right?

***

“MOM!” Link yelled, his voice projecting from his room and echoing around the Neal house. Frustrated, he lept out of his chair and rushed into the living room; it was completely empty. “Where’s my freaking airplane ticket? And what’s my confirmation number?” he groaned, flipping through messy drawers and stacks of documents. He threw his arms up in defeat as he retreated back into his room, he’ll ask his mom later. First, he had to pack.

He was leaving at 1 AM in the morning, which he was both looking forward to and dreading. _Could they not have picked a more convenient time?_ He glanced at this nightstand clock: 2 PM. Okay, _11 more hours_ , he thought. Link didn’t mind packing, that wasn’t the part he was dreading. He hated goodbyes. Saying goodbye to everything he had grown up with was going to be hard, and hard was an extreme understatement.

He took a deep breath as he walked towards his closet. _This is what you wanted, remember? Independence from parents, less schoolwork, more dance._ He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was terribly torn with how he felt about leaving Rhett

“Hey, how’s my little baby?” his mother squealed as she walked into his room without knocking and squeezed Link’s shoulders. He rolled his eyes, feeling equally uncomfortable and loved at the same time. “You’re gonna miss us, right?”

Link chuckled. “Why you even gotta ask? Of course, Mom. Don’t make it weird!”

“And Rhett?"

“What?”

“Are you going to miss Rhett?”

Link shrugged but stayed silent. He fiddled with the luggage tag he held in his hand. He could feel his mother’s concerned eyes focus intently on him, and he concentrated on the stitching on the tag. The name of his ballet studio was monogrammed on the black leather with carnation colored thread.

“Link, are you okay? Did you get into a fight with Rhett?”

Link sighed, obviously annoyed. “Ughh, oh my god. No, why does everyone keep expecting us to be inseparable? We’re two different people, okay?” he snapped. “It’s not like I’m in love with him or something!”

“Charles, don’t talk to your mother like that. You really gotta stop being so sensitive sometimes. People, including me, are just trying to be friendly.” She turned the doorknob and added, “You should give him a call, sort things out. Y’all are grown up, don’t go around having childish fights.”

Link got up and closed the slightly agape door. _Childish is the last word to describe this._

 _Fuck it,_ he thought as he picked up his flip phone from on his bed. A single crack ran down the 8-bit black and white screen from when it had hit the studio wall. Link’s hands shook as he dialed the number on the keypad. Rhett’s number was saved in his contacts as well, but he knew it so well that typing it in would be faster. It rang once, twice, then three times.

_This is Rhett McLaughlin. I am unable to pick up the phone right now, please leave a message after the tone. *beep*_

Just hearing Rhett's smooth voice made his entire body tense up, his hands clammy. Link couldn't believe himself; he would have never guessed that he would ever be nervous to call Rhett. Rhett was his best friend, the one he could always rant to, the one who was always there for-

Link’s phone buzzed and Link forcefully snapped the top up. Pressing the green phone button, he placed the device next to his ear. “He-hello?”

“Link. I’m sorry.”


	3. Failli Assemblé

“Link. I’m sorry.”

Link was shocked; these were not the words he expected to hear come out of Rhett’s mouth. “‘M sorry too, Rhett. Can we talk?” he tried. His stomach was clenched anxiously as he waited for an answer and he tapped his foot impatiently on the floor. 

“Of course. But can we… like… talk in person? I feel like this situation needs a face-to-face conversation. Although the last face-to-face conversation we had didn’t go so well.”

He also did not expect Rhett to be this upfront so quickly. Link chuckled uncomfortably, realizing that he had been holding his breath ever since he picked up the phone. After muttering an agreement, he asked where and when. He was cut off by Rhett’s muffled shouting followed by an exasperated sigh. 

“Sorry! Um, my mom needs me to come to the living room. Tomorrow morning at the river, okay? Usual place.”

It was then that Link realized he hadn’t even told Rhett when he was leaving. How had he forgotten? “Don’t think that’s gonna work, brother,” the last word slipping out of his mouth easily. “I’m leaving tonight.” The line stayed silent for a little bit as Link held his breath again, tensing up. After a few more seconds of silence, Link cleared his throat, prompting Rhett to say something, anything. 

“How about in an hour?” Rhett said. 

“Sure.” There was a click from Rhett’s end of the phone and Link sat there, still holding his phone up to his ear. He laid back on his bed for what felt like an eternity, then jumped up, remembering all the things he had to do before his flight. He got up and stared blankly at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, he probably smelled, and he really needed a shower and a change of clothes.

Stepping into the shower, he let the warm water pour over him and his hair he hadn’t washed since his audition, since his incident with Rhett. His mind roamed over what had happened, and he still couldn’t understand. He just had so many questions.  _ Why? Why not earlier? How had he not noticed? Did he feel the same way? _ Not able to answer any of these questions or give possible answers, he groaned in frustration. Every time his mind started following a feasible route, he lost his train of thought. He reached forward and turned the knob up a tiny bit. The water turned mildly scalding and Link pulled away, opening his eyes. His eyelids instantly slammed shut, his eyes burning. Tears formed as his eyes tried to rid the shampoo, and they streamed down his face. Once the tears started, they didn’t stop. He let himself collapse on the floor of the shower. 

_ It’s just the shampoo,  _ he told himself. But he knew that it wasn’t true. It was a decade of ignoring himself: pushing everything away, even things he thought he knew for sure, to the point of not understanding anything. He’d been convincing himself and thought it had worked. All of it had to end someday, and that someday had to be today. Now, through his shut eyes, all he could see was Rhett, and he let himself fully  _ see _ . No pushed away feelings, no telling himself that he was wrong. He felt slightly relieved but still guilty, imagining Rhett’s face a mere two inches from his, his breath washing over his lips. The feeling of Rhett wrapping his arms around his waist over his leotard burned in his head. He picked himself up from the slippery tub, stepping out and grabbing a towel to dry himself off. 

“Fuck,” he muttered as he glanced at his clock. Twenty minutes until he had to be at the river, next to Rhett. He raced around his room, throwing clothes around as he tried to find something clean and nice. The mess would just make packing later very difficult, but he didn’t care. He settled for a plain navy T-shirt and jeans that were a little bit dirty, but not noticeably so. His hair was still sopping wet, but he didn’t have time to blowdry it. He ran out the door, not even giving his parents a warning, and jumped in his car. 

Driving down the small road, he realized he didn’t know what he was going to say to his best friend.  _ Whatever, _ he told himself.  _ I don’t care. _ But he did care. He cared more than he ever had in his entire life. It would just be best to not do the thing he did the most, overthink.

When he pulled up to the river, Rhett’s car was already parked there. Link took a deep breath and walked towards Rhett, who was sitting down on a rock and looking out to the flowing water. Rhett heard a twig snap under Link’s shoe and swiveled his head around, locking eyes with Link. Link looked at the ground and kept walking toward him, a feeling of anxiety growing from deep within his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Link looked up. He had heard the question, but his instinct was to say, “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were leaving tomorrow?”

“Uh, it’s actually more like tonight. My flight’s at 1 AM,” Link said. Rhett raised an eyebrow, silently telling Link to stop stalling. Link had wanted to open up to Rhett. He had done little preparation for the conversation they were going to have to have, but the one thing he had told himself was that he was going to be open and honest. However, he froze up the moment Rhett’s eyes laid on him. “Uhh… it doesn’t really matter. I thought we weren’t on speaking terms. Besides, it doesn’t matter if I leave today or in a month.”

Rhett sighed. “It… it just gives me time to prepare.” Link sat up on the rock next to Rhett, and Rhett continued. “Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” 

Link looked down at his feet, his feet that continued to be unbreakable even when the rest of him was shattered. “I dunno.”

Rhett suddenly stood up. “Are you serious?” he asked, raising his voice. Link looked up, his eyes wide and starting to sparkle with fear. “You plan on rejecting me and then just leave? You want me to just forget about you? Listen to me, Link. You’re a real asshole, but I’m never going to forget about you, so don’t think you can just step out of my life and pretend our friendship- whatever this is- never existed.”

Link stared in silence for a few seconds, making Rhett even angrier. “You know what?” Link started. “It was nice knowing you. You want a proper goodbye? Goodbye.” He pivoted on his right foot and stepped towards his car when Rhett’s hand shot forward and grabbed him by the short sleeve of his shirt. “Seriously, dude. Stop being so gay and just let me go!” Link shouted and began to wrestle with the taller blonde. Once he realized he wouldn’t be able to win this one, he ran past Rhett and jumped into the river.

It was already June, but the water was colder than expected. But the coldness felt calming on his skin and he swam to the middle of the river. Their conversation couldn’t have gone more terribly. He cursed himself for ever wanting to open up to Rhett, that inconsiderate prick. Then, he cursed himself, the truly inconsiderate one, for calling Rhett gay. Rhett protected Link from that word for years; he was willing to fight anyone who made fun of Link or his love for ballet, but now Link was just one of the bullies, but worse. Instead of hurting a random kid during recess in third grade, he hurt the person closest to his heart. 

Link was only submerged for a few seconds when he heard a splash from behind him. His head broke the surface of the water as he wiped the water from his eyes. He turned around, paddling in the water to keep afloat. He saw Rhett swimming towards him, the water droplets on his skin glistening in the afternoon sun. Link panted, a mixture of exhaustion and nervousness overcoming him.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to get mad. I just…” Rhett started tearing up. A chill ran down Link’s spine; in their decade of friendship, he had only seen him cry one other time, a long time ago. Rhett couldn’t cry, he was his rock. Every time Link scraped a knee or had issues with his family, Rhett’s shoulder would be saturated with Link’s tears. Rhett was the one to listen when nobody else would, not even his own parents. 

“I should be the one to apologize, not you.” Link choked out. “I guess… I was just taken aback, okay? I told myself that I would tell you the truth today, and I should. You deserve the truth.” Rhett grabbed Link by the wrist and they swam closer to the shore until the water was about chest height. 

“Yeah, I do deserve the truth. But you deserve an explanation.”

Link’s heart pounded and he wanted to spill out everything, but he couldn’t. His tongue felt like a thousand pounds and he was unable to say anything else except, “You first?”

Rhett just smiled. “Sure,” he chuckled, and Link was so, so grateful. “When I called you an asshole, I didn’t mean it. What I meant to say was that you’re kind of stupid.” When Link’s brow started to furrow, Rhett’s smile widened and he continued. “You’re stupid because you’ve never noticed. Or you have, but if so, why haven’t you left?”

“Noticed what?”

“Why would you ask me that when you already know the answer?” Rhett suddenly got a little bit nervous, his voice quivering the slightest bit. “I like you, Link. And it’s okay if you don’t like me back, and I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us, and I’m sorry for kissing you the other day, I was just so proud of you and you looked beautiful under the moonlight, and I didn’t want you to leave me in this tiny to-”

“Shut up.” Link sighed, feeling conflict tearing his heart in two. “I never really noticed. Maybe it’s because I was always the one being called gay. I… I managed to convince myself that I wasn’t, but now that I think back on it, I was going to have to admit it one day.” He instantly felt more relieved and took a deep breath before speaking again. “The moment I would remotely feel anything towards you, I wouldn’t allow myself to keep thinking. Ballet helps, sometimes. It made it worse with the kids at school, but it helped me forget about you. No offense.”   


“None taken.” Silence. Then, Rhett spoke up again, “So… do you like me or-”

Link cut Rhett off for the second time that day, but Rhett didn’t mind. This time, Link lept forward, wrapping his arms around Rhett’s neck and pressed their lips together. Rhett made a happy sound from his throat and Link smiled against his lips. Hair and clothes soaked, Rhett held Link’s small waist and Link ran his fingers through Rhett’s short hair. Link breathed heavily through his nose, accidentally sucking up some water droplets from the other boy’s face. He quickly pulled away and broke the kiss, coughing with his head over his shoulder. Both boys laughed, then Rhett grabbed Link by the sides of his face and kissed him again. The brunette felt the blonde’s tongue peeking out from between his lips and he let out a quiet moan. Rhett opened his eyes, which were now sparkling with surprise and amusement. Link blushed a deep rose and looked down at the water lapping at their baggy T-shirts in embarrassment.

“Shirts feel weird while they’re soaked, huh?” Link tried. Rhett chuckled and lifted his shirt off his shoulders, then helped Link with his. Throwing both their tops to a rock on the bank of the river, Rhett backed Link up to the same rock. Their lips met again in a desperate embrace. The days of looking at each other while kissing girls were over; now, they wouldn’t be able to see each other anymore. Their eyes were shut, fully exploring each others mouths and thinking the unspoken question. 

_ What now? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr at [mythicalemily](http://mythicalemily.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> a huge thank you to the best person in the world, [reedytenors](http://reedytenors.tumblr.com/), for beta-ing this for me, i love you <3

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by all of Link's dancing and his dancer's body (those legs!) also my love for ballet :3  
> i'd love to hear your thoughts below or on my tumblr, [mythicalemily](http://mythicalemily.tumblr.com/)


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